


Running Into Your Arms

by FiliKiliThorinForever



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Animal Death, CEO to be Jim, Hurt/Comfort, Jim has secrets, M/M, builder Ross, food for courting, injured Jim, protective Ross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7741018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiliKiliThorinForever/pseuds/FiliKiliThorinForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ross's life in Cornwall is something that could be considered relatively uneventful. He works, sleeps and occasionally dallies with whoever takes his fancy after a night out at the pub.</p><p>But when a mystery man moves into the even more mysterious mansion on the coast that was abandoned near one hundred years ago Ross soon finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of attraction, flirting and more drama than he's seen in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Into Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SaucyWench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench/gifts).



**A/N: Hello everyone! So this is my prize fic for SaucyWench for the SpringFRE. This was supposed to only be a 5k word fic, but I got a bit carried away and it exploded into this gigantic 11.5k monster. Oops! Saucy my dear, I hope this is okay! I may have deviated slightly and only realised once I'd finished it...**  
  
**The original prompt was: _How about Jim being new in town, and Ross awkwardly trying to woo him with a happy ending? Bonus points for jealous!Ross with a side of angst._**

**It certainly came out angstier than I had anticipated, but hey, when isn't it with me?**

**A special thanks to My_Trex_has_fleas for the 'food for courting idea' as well as all the help she gave me in general. I was really unsure of how to proceed in parts and her support certainly helped me get through it :) Also to Lakritzwolf, who taught me how to put graphics into a story!! :D**

**I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did when writing it :)**

 

* * *

 

__   


 

_The old Johnson manor was something of a legend in Cornwall._

_The owners were a reclusive family; rarely venturing from their home and interacting with the locals while the children, despite their youthful enthusiasm on the scarce trips they made to town for supplies, were home schooled and kept separate from other children their age. Many tried approaching them with gifts and words of kindness, but the family - who took said gifts and words with grace and kindness in return - didn’t make any further effort to integrate themselves with the rest of the villagers._

_Then one day, without warning, the family up and left._

_The townsfolk were left scratching their heads as to the speed of their departure, and questions ran aplenty of what could’ve driven them from their home; a large structure built of stone and wood with bedrooms and rooms for entertaining aplenty, paddocks that spanned several acres and finished on a secluded beach that no one but the landowners could access._

_At least, that was what the townsfolk had been told, for despite the grandness of the manor none had actually set foot inside the building, let alone the property._

_The mystery surrounding their hasty departure would forever remain, but the rumours and gossip ran like a swift flowing river; from irreversible debt to sickness and murder and threats of harm to their family that made them flee in the dead of night._

_Each was more unlikely than the last, but with no one able to corroborate the story and the realtor having only been left instructions to sell the house the theories behind the Johnson’s disappearance became one of the more popular stories told to any who would listen._

_As all local stories are wont to do, the minimal facts and wild speculations soon became a part of the legend itself; potential buyers who wished to purchase such a grand house were in some way or another put off, and so it remained abandoned and slowly deteriorating over the next ninety years, weathering every storm and dry summer Mother Nature had to throw at it with an eerie sadness._

_So when the Johnson manner was brought out of the blue one Summer’s day it became the centre of the town’s gossip; even the realtor had only ever spoken to the new owner over the phone._

_No skype, no visits._

_Just a voice at the other end of the line._

_Ross Poldark, Cornwall’s resident handyman and heir to his father's mining and construction estate paid little attention to the gossip; preferring the company of his work and pretty lasses - and the occasional gent – than sticking his nose where it didn’t belong._

_Later Ross realised that if he’d paid more attention to what was going on around him then he would have seen the signs that his life was about to change forever._

 

* * *

 

The cover of night offered many things; secrecy, mystery, and more importantly a safety the likes of which Jim hadn’t felt in weeks.

He cruised along the unsealed road, smiling to himself at every pothole his truck managed to find that sent him bouncing in his seat, the occasional smack of his head against the roof making him laugh quietly. It had been many years since he had experienced roads like this, and he found that it was something the child in him had missed dearly; the anticipation of every hole to come and being able to push himself up in his seat, yelling encouragements for his father to drive faster.

It was something his parents had always indulged with good humour.

The thought of them made the worry that had been churning in his stomach since the attack rise once again. He had yet to hear from either of them; so quick was their separation to go into hiding and the lack of word from the security team had left him on edge. It was understandable, he supposed, considering he hadn’t stopped driving, hadn’t stopped running for the last three weeks to shake whoever was following him as he searched for somewhere safe to hide.

Often the worry he felt for them was overwhelming, but he had to trust in the contingency plans his parents had put in place the moment he was born. It was the only way he’d stop his fear for the two people he treasured the most from distracting him, and he had enough to worry about as it was.

It was also why he’d held off arriving in Cornwall until the wee hours of the morning; the longer he could stay hidden from prying eyes and gossip until he got himself familiar with the area and potential escape routes, the better.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later he spotted a ‘sold’ sign on the left side of the road and turned into the gravel driveway beside it, mentally making a note to remove the sign in the morning once he’d marked the location of the driveway on his phone’s GPS.

No signs hopefully meant no unwanted guests, and guests were something he really didn’t want. Now or in the near future, not when he didn’t know them or their intentions.

After five minutes of yet another winding gravel road lined with trees Jim found himself at a large wrought-iron gate that was guarded by a tall iron and brick fence, the new chain and padlock holding the two gates closed glinting brightly in the headlights. He climbed out of the car and removed the key that he had on a string around his neck, grateful he had posted the lock to the realtor rather than having the poor man wait up all night for his arrival. Propping one side open he drove through, hopping out to lock the gate behind him before driving the rest of the way up to his new home.

When he pulled up to the house a shiver travelled up his spine at the building that was shrouded in darkness. Even the glow of his headlights didn't have much of an impact on the shadows that engulfed it.

He switched the car off and sat there, nervousness creeping up on him at the reality that he’d be living in this big building alone.

“Come on Jim,” he muttered as he climbed out. “It’s just a house, nothing wrong with it.”

Steeling himself he moved to the back of his truck and opened the boot, smiling as Silver, Flint and Sparrow piled out in a flail of limbs, the six week old Siberian huskies circling round his feet with happy yelps.

Well, he wouldn’t be completely alone he supposed.

“Hey boys,” he greeted with a laugh as he crouched to give them a good scratch behind the ears. “You were so good for daddy!” And indeed they had been, having weathered the bumps with only a few whines, but they had mostly contented themselves with wrestling each other in the boot of his truck.

His puppies were his pride and joy, an unexpected but welcome addition to his life before it had all gone to hell. He’d hand raised them from when they were just two weeks old; he had gone for a run in a nearby forest and stumbled upon them, stuffed in a sack and abandoned. Jim and his parents had worked diligently to keep them alive and, after several sleepless nights and multiple visits from a vet, they had been rewarded with three loyal and loving puppies. His bond with them was so strong that he’d outright refused to leave them behind, and along with them and a few personal items it was all he’d had time to grab before he had fled his home and his life.

These days it was only the puppies that stopped him from being consumed with fear.

He stood and grabbed the leashes from the back of the truck, quickly attaching them to the collars before the puppies realised they were somewhere new and decided to try and explore the vast amount of land he now owned.

If they disappeared he doubted he’d find them again.

“Toilet, food and then bed I think,” he told the trio who yipped happily in return and began trying their hardest to pull him off his feet in their enthusiasm.

 

Four empty bladders and four full stomach’s later Jim shut the rear door of the truck, cracking open a side window to keep the oxygen flowing. He slipped into his sleeping bag and curled up with the puppies on the mattress he’d brought and put in the boot.

Pressing a kiss to each of their heads he turned on his side and drew the bag further up under his arms, smiling sadly when Silver shifted until he was pressed against his back, just like _he_ used to -

Jim cut those thoughts off before they could get any further, not wanting to reminisce for fear of suffering another panic attack. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly like he’d practised. He was fine, he was safe, and more importantly, no one would be able to hurt him again.

 

* * *

 

“Did yer hear, the new owner of the Johnson’s place moved in a couple of days ago?”

Ross continued on hammering, needing to get the fence finished by the end of the day if he wanted to have the full weekend off. Demelza had stopped by with lunch a little while ago and he had been content to let his best friend’s one sided conversation wash over him like water; thankful for the noise and even more thankful she didn’t expect any response from him save for the occasional grunt and hum of agreement.

At least, that had been the case until now.

He let out a yelp when she slapped his arm and found her looking at him thoroughly unimpressed.

“Ow!” he complained, rubbing the tingling patch of skin where she’d struck. Demelza had a strength behind her that most of the males in town were jealous of. “What was that for?!”

“Were yer even listening to me Ross Poldark?”

Nope. “Of course I was!”

“Then what was I talking about?”

Shit. The raised eyebrow she aimed at him told Ross there was no way he was going to weasel his way out of this one. “Ummm…. Something about goats to go?” he ventured, whining when she smacked him over the head this time.

“For heavens sakes Ross,” Demelza huffed, “your attention span is horrific. I could be telling yer World War Three had started or there was a zombie apocalypse and yer’d think I was talking about the weather.” The red head rolled her eyes at her friend and handed him the bag of nails he had started reaching for in what she guessed was meant to be a subtle manner.

“I said that the new owner of the Johnson’s place has moved in already.”

It was Ross’s turn to roll his eyes. Everywhere he had gone since the news of the purchase broke the new owner was the hot topic of conversation, so much so that he could honestly say he had lost interest.

And frankly, he really didn’t care.

“So?” He asked, harsher than he meant to be. “The house has a new owner, whoop-de fucking do. God that’s all anyone can talk about at the moment, the poor guy probably just wants some privacy and he’ll be the town’s newest fucking attraction instead. What a great welcome Cornwall is giving him.”

“Wow, someone has their nails in a knot.”

Ross ducked his head, chagrined. Rubbing his temple he looked at her apologetically. “Sorry Dem, it’s been a long week, and everyone is talking about it. Don’t you get sick of hearing about him? Besides, his arrival will have no impact on me in the slightest.”

Demelza sighed in fond exasperation. “No I don’t, and yes it will. Honestly Ross, yer might be gorgeous but boy are yer thick sometimes.” She hefted herself up onto one of the new fence posts and poked him with her boot. “Do yer know why?”

“Seeing as it seems to be insult Ross day please, do enlighten me,” he replied sarcastically, placing his hammer into his belt and crossing his arms as he leaned against the fence. “Y’know, seeing as I’m too thick and all.”

Demelza patted his head with a grin. “Ross darlin’, the house as yer well know has been abandoned for ninety years. That means that it ain’t going to be in impeccable condition, or even if parts of it were, the new owner is going to want to renovate to make it more modern. Which means…?”

“Which means he’ll need a builder and building supplies,” he finished; groaning at the thought of what he’d need to make even a dent in the repairs, let alone a renovation. “Shit.”

Demelza laughed and ruffled his hair. “Give the man a prize! Look on the bright side though; you are the first person in this town to set foot in that house for the first time in ninety years. Think about how cool that is!” Suddenly taken with the idea she began talking excitedly, hands flapping about as she started a checklist she wanted him to complete.

“Oh you _must_ take a camera and get photos of the place, and make sure you take notes of how many rooms there are-”

“Woah Dem, chill!” He pressed a finger to her mouth with a chuckle before she could get any further in her planning. “The owner may only want building materials sent over so they can do the repairs alone, or maybe they’re planning on ripping the whole manor down and starting again.”

Emerald green eyes widened in horror at the thought, Demelza’s face matching her alarm. “They wouldn’t! That’s a piece of Cornwall’s history!”

He shrugged. “It has to be several hundred years old to qualify for a site with historical significance, so they can do what they want. Now-” Before he could finish his phone rang, and fishing it out of his pocket he gave her a look that very clearly told her to be quiet.

“Poldark Construction, Ross speaking.”

“ _Hi,_ ” a cheery male voice replied, “ _I’m looking at doing some renovations on my house and I need a bit of help._ ”

It took Ross a moment to realise that the accent wasn’t a Cornish one, and a moment more to realise that this was likely the town’s newest resident.

“ _Sure_ ,” he said when he remembered the man was still waiting for an answer, “ _What sort of help were you after, sir?_ ”

“It’s a guy?” Demelza hissed excitedly, having clued in quickly to the fact it wasn’t one of the locals. Everyone knew each other well enough to be on a first name basis, and if Ross was using a polite term then there was no doubt in her mind who he was talking to.

“ _Well this place is in a pretty poor state so I guess I’ll need a building assessment done on it first, then some guidance as to what needs urgent repairs, repairs that can wait and so on -_ ”

“So the whole package, basically?” He interrupted, cutting off the rambling that was expected from those overwhelmed with the work that needed doing to their home.

There was an embarrassed chuckle. “ _Yeah, I guess you could say that_.”

“Well I have a fence to finish up and then I’m free, so I could come over in a couple of hours if that works for you?”

“ _Um, well I’d take you up on that offer, but there’s a lot here and I think you’ll need at least a full day, if not longer, to assess this place. It might be best if we start fresh on Monday?_ ”

Ross sighed internally in relief. Despite wanting to go over and get the job out of the way before the weekend he was shattered after such a long week, and he knew that the inspection of the house alone was going to be a big job. “Sounds like a plan. What’s the address and what time works for you?” Asking the address was more out of courtesy than necessity as he knew exactly where the house was, but he didn’t want to assume that it was the new owner and not someone else in need of his help.

That would be awkward.

“ _Is nine too early for you? And it’s the old manor on the hill._ ”

“I know the one, and nine is no problem.” And just like that Ross not only had more work, but probably one of the most physically demanding and exciting jobs of his career he’d ever get.

“ _Awesome. I’ll see you on Monday then._ ”

“See you then,” Ross confirmed, only to blink when something occurred to him. “Sorry, what was your name?”

“ _Jim_ ,” the man said after a moment’s pause.

“ _My name’s Jim_.”

 

* * *

 

Monday morning rolled around faster than Ross would have liked, but despite a lingering ache in his muscles he was looking forward to the challenge that lay ahead. The night before Demelza had left him a basket of leftover food from her café to share with his new client, much to his amusement, as a little welcome to Cornwall gesture. He knew that her nosey side was jealous that she couldn’t go with him to the house, but he had sworn up and down he would do his best to get her to meet him to satisfy her curiosity.

It wasn’t a long drive, and he was soon turning off his truck and staring up at the house before him in awe. All the stories he’d been told and the few photo’s that existed that he’d seen didn’t do this gorgeous piece of architecture justice.

It was beautiful, in a haunting kind of way, and just from the outside alone he could tell that this place was going to need a lot of work to restore her to her former glory.

And it was a challenge he knew he was going to thoroughly enjoy.

Checking he had his notebook, pen and phone he climbed out of his truck before strolling around to the back of the house as per the instructions he’d received that morning. Even now he was examining the building, making mental notes for any outside repairs he might have to do and more than once tripped over a tree root or cracked piece of pavement because of his inattention.

Just as he reached the far side of the house there was the gallop of multiple feet on the hard ground, the noise indicating the owner was quickly coming towards him. The unfamiliar sound reminded him of the stories of the house being haunted and was enough to make him slightly nervous.

He wasn’t left worrying for long. Two puppies came racing around the corner, barking excitedly and prancing around his feet when they realised the sound they had heard had actually led to something.

“Well hello,” he chuckled, bending down and letting them sniff his fingers before scratching the tops of their heads. “I wasn't expecting to see either of you.”

“No one ever is, really.”

Ross looked up, and found the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen standing before him. Jim was shorter than him by a head or so but he was well built; the tank top and shorts giving him a preview of well-defined muscles and a smattering of crisp golden chest hair that screamed to be touched. His boyish good looks placed him a few years younger than Ross; his golden hair pulled into a bun at the top of his head with two thick braids on either side disappearing into the tidy mess while cerulean blue eyes watched him with a hesitant friendliness, as though he wanted to seem welcoming but expected Ross to be anything but kind.

Taken aback by this sudden attraction he cleared his throat and clamped down on his emotions. The last thing he needed was to trip all over himself and lose the contract because of what would likely be a fleeting fancy. Deepening his voice to hopefully sound more professional he stood up and said, “You’re Jim?”

The blond nodded. “I’m Jim. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

He took a step forward, preparing to shake the man’s hand when there was a growl. Startled, he looked down to find a third puppy hiding behind Jim's legs.

“Hush Sparrow,” Jim chided, leaning back to scratch the pups ear, “it’s alright.”

“Nervous around strangers is he?”

“No, he’s just protective of me.” Jim frowned and shook his head slightly, as though ridding it of an unpleasant thought before he took a step forwards and shook Ross’s hand. “These are my boys; Sparrow, who is a little russet rocket when he gets going, Flint’s the black one and Silver is, well, the grey one.” Silver and Flint barked from where they were wrestling when their names were said making both men smile.

He turned his attention away from the new residents and looked up at the rundown building beside him. “And this is the house.”

“This is the house,” Jim agreed. “Shall we?”

He nodded and followed Jim and the puppies around the back, mentally preparing himself for what would undoubtedly be a long day ahead.

 

* * *

 

Lunch time rolled around faster than Ross had expected it to, but he was grateful for the chance to stop and eat all the same. The house was, for lack of a better description, in need of some serious love, and although the side of him that loved a challenge was rubbing its hands together gleefully, the builder side was banging his head against the proverbial wall.

Not only was everything in the house ancient, but the Cornish elements – after having the windows smashed in either a storm or by some passing hooligans – had really done a number on the interior.

As had the local wildlife.

The walls were full of holes and riddled with mould, birds had nested in the rafters and left an ungodly amount of excrement on the now unsalvageable floor, the furniture was so close to falling apart that Ross was afraid to sneeze lest everything implode around them and the plumbing and heating were going to have to be replaced completely.

And that was only a fraction of the work that would have to be done.

With a sigh he put away the list he’d started to make in his notebook as he and Jim began making their way through Demelza’s food, the pair lounging on the lawn in front of the house with three very alert crumb collectors sitting close by.

“This roll is amazing.”

Ross looked over to where Jim was sitting with his eyes closed, savouring the taste of the smoked chicken, avocado and mayo roll. He swallowed around his own mouthful harshly as he watched the blond’s throat bob slightly, and had to turn away before his mind fell into a gutter he knew he’d never succeed in rescuing it from.

“Demelza’s café is the most popular in town for a reason,” he agreed, internally rolling his eyes when it came out more as a grunt and less as the squeaking mouse he’d thought would happen as he bit into a large slice of quiche. “She’s been into cooking since she was a kid and it’s paid off. Which is good, although I don’t think my waistline agrees with that.”

“It certainly did pay off. And unless you’re hiding something under that shirt of yours I think you’ll be fine.”

“You could always look and find out.”

Ross froze in mortification the moment the words slipped out, wishing there was a hole big enough he could crawl into and die of embarrassment. He didn’t know what it was about Jim that kept turning him into a fool, but from the moment they’d shaken hands he’d been hyperaware of the blond’s presence by his side and more than once he’d said things that made no sense or were so outlandish he’d ended up blushing in embarrassment.

He tried desperately to think of a way to take it back, to brush it off and pretend that it had been a joke but even he knew his pause had been too long to make it seem legit. Risking a glance at Jim he found the blond staring at him with wide eyes, his expression nothing less than confused.

“I… um…”

Before he was given a chance to redeem himself Silver had taken advantage of his distraction and grabbed the roll, and with a violent shake of his head sent lettuce, carrot and chicken flying and all over Jim.

“Silver! You little shit!”

The blond lunged for his rather smug looking puppy that happily pranced away from them, and the moment, it seemed, was forgotten.

 

* * *

 

Ross walked back to his truck, Jim beside him and the three puppies racing back and forth like lunatics, barking and yipping at each other and making him laugh every time they used him and Jim as the turning point.

“Oh for crying out loud,” Jim huffed after the puppies nearly collided with his legs for the fourth time, “I swear there must’ve been something in those rolls, they’ve never gone this mental before.”

“Or they’re just happy to be out in a massive space.”

“They grew up with a big backyard, and they were never like this,” Jim told him. “Whatever, they’ll sleep well tonight so I probably shouldn't complain.”

He chuckled in response, silently filing that little titbit of information away for him to think about later. Changing the subject to the monstrous task they had ahead of them he cleared he looked at the blond. “So, as I mentioned earlier there’ll be a lot of work to do to get the structure of the house and the wiring and plumbing up to regulation, then it’s just a matter of doing all the cosmetic stuff. I’m not sure if you were planning on doing it yourself, but I’m more than happy to do it, or give you a hand if you prefer.”

Jim smiled at him, part in relief and part bashful. “I have zero experience with this sort of thing, so I’d be more than happy for you and your hands to take control.”

The sentence, and the way Jim said it had Ross discreetly pinching his leg in a frantic attempt to dispel the image it brought and to stay professional as he’d fought so hard to do throughout the day. He cleared his throat. “Um, right. Well that’s, um, that’s good. Cool.” He increased his speed back to his truck by the tiniest amount, well aware that the tips of his ears were burning and he fervently hoped Jim hadn’t noticed.

When they arrived at his truck Ross tossed his notepad and the now empty basket into the passenger seat and turned to Jim.

“Did you need some help finding temporary accommodation while we get the house sorted? There’s a bed and breakfast not too far from here-”

“Thank you but no,” Jim said, cutting him off with a smile. He waved towards his own truck and Ross looked over, blinking in surprise when he saw a makeshift campsite. “As you can see I’m well and truly sorted. Packet meals are a godsend for this kind of thing. I only need to source fresh meat for the boys now; they can’t live off biscuits forever, no matter how good they’re supposed to be for them.”

“Fair enough. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Jim smiled at him, moving back and calling the puppies to where Ross could see them. The last thing he wanted was for one of the rascals to end up under a wheel. “See you tomorrow Ross.”

 

* * *

 

A month passed before the house was completely and safely stripped of everything that needed to go, as well as having all the building permits approved; something Ross had had to wait to put through until Jim had decided how he wanted to proceed.

And as the building slowly changed and developed, so too did their friendship. And Ross’s crush.

Jim’s smiles, which had been restrained and hesitant at first became natural and easy the more they got to know each other. Or rather, the more Jim got to know Ross, for when Ross thought about it one night he only had a vague idea of Jim’s past.

Oh he knew plenty of random facts about Jim, like how the blond liked his tea - English breakfast all the way, as Jim had told him seriously one morning - with half a teaspoon of sugar and a splash of milk, and how despite his best efforts to give it up chocolate was, and always would be, his poison. But proper facts, real facts about his past; where his home was, what he did for a living, where he had gone to school… it was all breezed over. It was frustrating, to say the least, but after seeing the sadness in the sea blue eyes when he brought up the topic of his parents he had chosen to stop asking questions, determined that the blond would only ever smile and laugh because of him and not get lost in obviously painful memories and grief.

So with the lack of personal information leaving him at a disadvantage he decided to pay attention to the information Jim did choose to give him.

And so a courtship of sorts began.

When Jim had first mentioned about needing to get fresh meat for the puppies Ross had arrived the next day with three big bones laden with meat, and two large steaks which Demelza had kindly sacrificed for him and Jim to share over lunch. A few days later he brought over a large bottle of fresh milk straight from the small farm he kept at the back of his house, much to Jim’s utter delight. A few days after that the younger man had mentioned his love of shortbread biscuits and so Ross had brought him a packet, leaving them on the blond’s sleeping bag for him to find later and felt incredibly smug when Jim sent him a text berating him and thanking him in turn.

He had asked over cold chicken and cranberry sandwiches one day what Jim thought of Cornwall, whether he had managed to explore the town without being mobbed and harassed for information about who he was only to discover that the blond had never been there, instead using his weekends to visit a town a few hours away where no one knew him nor would pay any attention to him. It saddened Ross to think that Jim wasn’t able to take his puppies into town to get even the simplest of supplies, but he supposed the need for anonymity was greater than his interest in his new home.

When things had settled down and Jim had moved into his house Ross vowed silently that he’d escort the blond into town himself and give him a private tour.

Besides, if Jim eventually showed the same interest in him it would mean date ideas would be much simpler.

 

* * *

 

Two months had passed and they were making good progress. The wiring had been completed, as had the majority of the plumbing, and Ross had replaced the cladding, insulation, floors, walls and windows in one of the rooms so that Jim could sleep in something more reliable than a tent.

The flirting, which up until now had been single sided, was tentatively being returned. The first time Ross found a carved wooden dog on the dashboard of his truck, the only thought he had was that Jim was incredibly talented; something he had been sure to text the blond about when he returned home. But when he found an owl, and then a rose several days later he had a sneaking suspicion that Jim was flirting with him in return.

Excited to see if there was more to their friendship like he hoped Ross waited for Friday to come with a nervous anticipation. He and Demelza had discussed for several hours how he was going to go about showing Jim his interest and eventually agreed that waiting for the weekend was the best course of action; if he’d misread the situation the last thing either of them should have to suffer was seeing each other straight after without having a couple of days to process what had happened.

But he was absolutely, undeniably, one hundred percent certain he was right.

Still. It was better to be safe than sorry.

By the time Friday rolled around Ross was damn certain he’d watched paint dry faster. But move it did and before he knew it it was Friday and he was on his way home after having grouted and hammered all day. He was tired, but with Jim’s enthusiastic agreement to having pizza, beer and playing cards for the evening spurring him on he was home in no time, washing thoroughly and scrubbing as much paint off as he could. Once he was satisfied that he was as clean as he could get he got changed, picking out a pair of dark blue, slim fitting jeans that, as Demelza put it, accentuated his ass in a way that should be illegal. He followed that with a t-shirt and a nice zip up jacket, preferring to go for the casual yet stylish look than over the top or fashionably challenged.

When he was satisfied with his look (he hadn't bothered trying to tame the curly mop that was his hair) he grabbed a box of beer and placed an order for some pizzas, internally debating with himself before slipping a bottle of lube and condoms into his jacket pocket.

He had no idea what direction the night would take, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry, and the glovebox of his truck would be a perfect place to store them until he knew what would happen.

 

* * *

 

Ross pulled up the drive, music on low as he hummed along and tried to ignore the smell of the pizza that seemed to be clinging to the inside of his nose. He was also trying to calm the butterflies that were rolling around his stomach, reminding himself that he’d have an answer very soon and fretting wasn't going to help time go faster.

As he pulled up to the house he could hear frantic barking and smiled to himself at the familiar welcome as he switched the car off, wondering how he and Jim would get some alone time without the dogs hanging around like they always did.

The last thing he wanted was to get to third base with a playful audience.

Double checking he’d tucked the lube and strip of condoms safely away in the glove box he turned to grab the beer and pizza from the passenger seat when he spotted something tucked against the treeline.

It was a car; dark coloured with tinted windows and it was parked in such a way that it looked like someone had deliberately tried to hide it.

Normally he wouldn’t have given it much thought, but he knew for a fact Jim hadn’t ventured into town and made any friends, and as far as he was aware hadn’t told anyone he knew where he lived. He wasn’t sure why, but a bad feeling crept over him, and his wariness of the situation had him exiting the car silently and creeping towards the house, beers and pizza forgotten.

As he got closer he spotted Flint and Silver scrabbling at the front door in a desperate attempt to get inside, but there was no sign of Sparrow. He looked around for the puppy and found him not too far from the other two, lying on the ground against the bushes and not moving.

He swore under his breath and crouched so he was beneath the window before hurrying forward as silently as he could. Sparrow hadn’t moved an inch, but to his relief he could see the little chest rise and fall as the pup breathed.

With a slight change in course he made sure to come in on an angle so that Sparrow could see him as he approached. The last thing he wanted was for him to startle and alert the unknown visitor to his arrival.

Sparrow whined weakly when he caught sight of him and Ross quietly hushed him, running gentle fingers through the brown fur to check for injury and gasped quietly when he felt the slight shift of ribs beneath his fingertips.

The fury that welled inside of him took his breath away with its intensity. He knew Jim loved his puppies like they were his own children, and so the injuries could only have been caused by the unknown visitor. And for someone to cause an animal such a horrible injury when they were only a baby…

Ross could only shudder at the thought of the person’s intentions towards Jim.

Removing his jacket he covered Sparrow and tucked it as close as he could get before lifting the puppy as though he was made of glass and crept back to his truck.

Another silent opening of the car door and he slid Sparrow into the passenger seat, quickly grabbing the blanket he always kept on hand and wrapping it around the trembling form before sneaking back to the house.

Just as he got to the door there was a cry of pain. Ross froze, his blood going cold at the noise.

Jim.

Flint and Silver’s frantic barking increased to the point where he was in dire need of earplugs if he was to preserve his hearing. Leaving the puppies to distract whoever was with Jim he slunk towards where he thought the sound had come and pressed up against the wall to peer inside.

The sight before him made him see red.

There was Jim, propped against the wall with his hands and feet tied to an exposed pipe looking furious and terrified at the same time. He had blood streaming from his forehead and his nose, and there was a large patch of blood staining the light blue shirt he wore on the right shoulder.

He wasn’t entirely sure what the wound was, but the gun the assailant was holding didn’t make it hard to guess.

The man in question thankfully had his back to the window as he yelled at Jim, the blond flinching every time the barrel of the gun was pointed his way as the man gestured wildly. His hair was a mess and Ross couldn’t help but notice the rather unkempt clothes which, he hoped, meant Jim had put up a fight before being restrained.

Having seen all he needed he hurried back to his truck, yanking his phone from his pocket and putting it to his ear.

_“Ross? Aren’t you supposed to be with Jim?”_

“Demelza,” he whispered, moving to the back of the truck and pulling open the boot. “There’s a guy here. He has a gun and Jim’s tied up. You need to get the cops and an ambulance here quickly!”

_“What?! What do you mean-”_

“I don’t have time for this,” he hissed, grabbing the tool he needed, “Just get them here!”

He hung up before she could say anything else and hurried back to the house. Armed with the only tool he knew would convince the man to put down the gun he made his way into the building as silently as he could, crouching down low before peeking around the corner to reassess the situation.

“…you were so fucking stupid, falling for the first guy who batted his eyes at you. Christ it was easy to earn your trust-”

“Fuck you, you bastard,” Jim snarled, spitting a glob of blood onto the guy’s shoe and earning himself a heavy boot to the ribs for his troubles.

Ross bit his tongue as he watched Jim curl in on himself. He’d seen enough to know that whatever happened next, he’d take great joy in making the other man hurt. “You little shit! Do you know how much these cost-”

“That’s enough.”

Both Jim and the man jumped at the growl. Jim’s eyes widened, first in relief and then in panic at the sight of Ross standing there wielding a nail gun.

“Ross-!”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

Ross raised the nail gun higher and sneered at the man’s fury. “Jim’s partner,” he said calmly and without hesitation, “now drop your gun.”

“What are you going to do you stupid fuck?” The man laughed, brandishing his gun as though Ross hadn’t noticed it, “hit me over the head with your tool?”

Ross chuckled, dimly aware of how dark it sounded. “How about I show you?” And without the slightest hesitation he pulled the trigger in quick succession three times.

It was like watching everything happen in slow motion. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was hoping to achieve, aside from scaring the guy, but watching two of the nails bury themselves into the man’s chest as Ross himself dodged out of the path of an oncoming bullet had him blinking in shock. The man went down with a bellow, the gun skittering from his grasp as he hit the floor.

As the man tried to get up Ross wasted no time. He leapt forwards, scooping up a piece of timber and swinging it to collide with the offenders head, a dull crack echoing through the room as the wood snapped and knocked him out.

All was quiet, even the dogs had stopped barking. Ross knew he was panting heavily as he tried to calm his frantic heart, but that, mixed with the nausea in the face of what he’d just done left him on the verge of panicking. There was a groan, and Ross suddenly remembered just who the assailant had been threatening.

He raced to Jim’s side, tossing the nail gun aside as his hands fluttered around the blond in order to find somewhere uninjured to hold onto. Jim’s eyes were closed, and his breathing shallow and rapid which only drove his concern up further.

That’s when he saw the nail.

“Shit,” he cursed, eyes never leaving the nail poking out of the left side of Jim’s chest as his hands searched around for the toolbox he knew was close by. “Shit, Jim, I need you to open your eyes. Jim? Open your eyes for me, come on.”

Jim didn’t respond.

Just as his fingers collided with the metal of his toolbox he heard sirens in the distance and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that help was finally on the way. He cut the ties that had been wrapped around the blonde’s wrists, wincing when he saw how badly they had bitten into the skin before carefully lowering them both to the ground, cradling Jim to his chest in order to share some of his warmth.

As he sat there cradling Jim to his chest he couldn’t ignore the fact that his hands were shaking. He’d never been that violent in his life, but seeing the blond strung up like a piece of meat, looking utterly terrified and helpless had made him snap. When he and everything around him had calmed down he’d try and process what had happened later, but for now Jim was all he could think about, and every stuttering gasp that left his parted lips was a lifeline he was holding onto with something akin to desperation.

Several minutes later sirens filled the valley with their whining and Ross knew that whatever was to happen now, Jim would be in better hands than his own. Eventually the room was filled with red and blue lights, and Ross waited impatiently for the ambulance staff to enter the building.

_“Ross! Ross where are you!”_

“Demelza!” He yelled, unsurprised that she’d led the charge to the house. He looked around when a shadow fell over him and grinned when his best friend’s face appeared in one of the windows.

“They’re in here!”

He couldn’t help the relief that flooded him at the familiar faces that quickly filed into the room. Just as he was handing Jim to the paramedics’ the thundering of paws and high pitched barks had Ross completing the handover faster than anticipated so he could catch Flint and Silver before they barrelled into their unconscious owner.

“Demelza, give me a hand would you?” He grunted, cursing when Flint almost slipped from his grasp.

Thankfully she was there and could grab the wriggling puppy before he could get in the way. “Where’s the other one?” she asked him as they both watched Jim being loaded onto the stretcher, “didn’t yer say there were three of them?”

Ross blinked in confusion before realisation set in. After giving a hurried explanation to the cops about what had happened he scooped Silver into his arms and hurried from the room, telling Demelza to follow him.

When they got to the car he opened the back door of the truck and put Silver inside before hurrying to the front to check on Sparrow.

It wasn’t good.

Sparrow was breathing but it was weak, and despite calling his name several times he couldn’t get a response from him.

“He needs a vet,” Demelza said, slipping past so she could check the dog over, “and quickly. But from what yer told me I don’t know if there’s much they can do-”

“Sparrow! No, S-Sparrow!”

Jim’s weak cry had the pair turning in surprise to find the blond struggling feebly against the paramedics and his stretcher.

“Sir you need to lie down-”

“Sparrow!”

“Bring him over here!” Ross called, “he needs to see his dog!”

With a bit of grumbling Jim was wheeled towards them. Demelza ducked out from beneath Ross’s arm and made her way to the driver’s side, climbing in and sticking her arm across the divide between the seats to stop Silver and Flint from climbing over Sparrow to get to Jim. Although to her surprise both were more focused on their brother than their owner.

“Sparrow,” Jim sobbed as he was helped over to his russet coloured puppy, “’m so sorry baby, so sorry.” He ran his fingers over the small head, his fingers getting a small lick from the otherwise unmoving dog before he leaned forward with Ross’s help to place a kiss on the soft muzzle. “You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.”

He looked up at Demelza, and she swallowed heavily at the pain filled gaze that was directed at her. Whether it was pain of the body or of the heart, she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Please help him,” Jim whispered to her, “please…”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised, “but yer need to get yerself looked after now, alright?”

Ross gave his friend a grateful smile before gently easing Jim away from the car and back onto the stretcher so he could shut the door. “Come on,” he murmured to the blond, brushing a kiss to the sweaty forehead once he was laying down, “let’s get you to the hospital, yeah?”

 

* * *

 

Ross was pretty certain this had been the longest night of his life, and it wasn’t something he felt like celebrating.

Praying for the night to pass quickly was all he had left, his energy and adrenaline having faded until he was bordering on exhaustion.

The moment they’d arrived at the hospital his childhood friend and the town’s resident surgeon Dwight Enys had flown out the doors and begun his assessment, eventually ordering Jim to be taken to one of the operating rooms. With a brief clap to his shoulder Dwight and Jim were gone, and Ross had been left to fill out what little he could of the paperwork before being shown to the room Jim would eventually be brought too.

It had been a long and agonizing wait, only broken by an orderly bringing him tea, the police coming in for an update of the situation and, eventually, Demelza.

He didn’t even have to ask how Sparrow was doing, for one look at her tear stained face told him everything.

“When?” he rasped out, closing his eyes as they began to sting. Despite Sparrow being wary of him at the start Ross had quickly come to adore the puppy; often getting an extra cuddle when Sparrow wasn’t twined around Jim’s legs, and always sharing a laugh with Jim when they taught him to fetch his hammer and bag of nails.

Out of the three of them Sparrow had been his favourite, and now that he was gone…

A pain he had never expected to feel when he met Jim and the dog’s gripped his heart, squeezing so tight he thought he’d choke. Not sensing his inner turmoil the red head sat in the chair beside him and ran a hand over her hair, willing away the lump in her throat. “Ginny said he’d gone before we reached her. Flint and Silver made a godawful racket just after we pulled out of the gates, and part of me thinks that’s when it happened.”

He wiped his eyes, taking a steadying breath as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. “This’ll kill him,” he murmured wetly, “Christ, Jim is going to be devastated.”

Demelza nodded. “I took the other two back to our place and put them in your room. I figured it was the nicer thing to do, rather than leaving them in a cold car for who knows how long. Those two are smarter then they look, I’m certain they know what’s happened because I had to carry them into the house as they wouldn’t move. They kept whining, Ross. It damn near broke my heart.”

He saw the tears in his eyes mirrored in her own. Demelza had a soft spot for any animal, and had come to love the trio of puppies through his tales of their deeds. He reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a light squeeze in comfort. “I know Dem, I know.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later Jim was wheeled into the room, Dwight giving them a rundown of his injuries whilst the nurses got him settled before he went back to patch up Jim’s assailant. Aside from three broken ribs, a deep gash on his temple, a broken nose, badly bruised ribs and the bullet and nail wound Jim was in surprisingly good shape, something Ross was grateful for as he had feared the worst.

It was a long wait, some three or four hours before the blond began to stir, but the moment he did Ross was up and by his side, gentle fingers combing through the golden strands and guiding him back to consciousness.

Jim groaned, the dull pain in his head and the ache in his body mixed with the medication coursing through his system made him feel groggy, sick and downright grumpy.

“Wha’ppened?”

“Hey sleeping beauty, how do you feel?” His attempt to keep the mood light was obviously lost on Jim for all he got was a disgruntled grumble as a reply. “Been better then, I guess,” he chuckled.

“Hur’s…”

Ross watched Demelza leave the room in search of a nurse. “We’ll get you some painkillers in a minute okay?” Sleepy blue eyes cracked open and met his own, making him smile in relief. “Hi there.”

“Mmm… s-stop bein’ so cheerful.”

“Sorry,” Ross apologised, feeling anything but, “I’ll be a grumpy old fart like yourself then shall I?”

Jim’s glare was half-hearted at best, but it made Ross feel a little better knowing he still put in the effort.

“Jim,” the nurse greeted as she entered the room, Demelza trailing behind her, “good to see you’re awake. Aside from pain medication we need to fill out your paperwork a bit more, and there’s an officer who would like to speak to you as well.”

Ross frowned at her. “Can’t it wait? He’s only just woken up.”

“The sooner it’s done, the sooner they can charge the man. He had no ID, and they need to start building a case against him.”

“What, assaulting Jim isn’t enough?”

The nurse gave him such a look that made him duck his head, chastised. “Sorry.”

“I should think so, Ross. I get that you want to help him, but so do we.” After waiting for Ross to nod in understanding she turned to administer some pain relief before sticking her head out the door, motioning for one of the local officers Jimmy Carter, another good friend of Ross’s, to enter the room. Waiting patiently for Jim to finish the paperwork she checked his stats one last time before taking her leave.

 

* * *

 

Over the next half hour Ross, Demelza and Jimmy listened in amazed disbelief to Jim’s story. It turned out that Jim was considered royalty in the shipping industry; his family had created what was now the largest shipping empire in the world at least ten generations ago, and when his father was ready to step down from the role he would take over as CEO.

Which of course made him a prime target for competitors who were ambitious enough to try and take over the spot of top dog.

Fortunately for Jim, despite his age his was popular with their employees, customers and people in or studying for the engineering sector. Since his schooling days he’d become increasingly concerned with the pollution and waste created by the ships and production sites, and so had convinced his father through many a presentation and example that bio-fuel and other environmentally friendly practises were the future.

And really, what was several million dollars to experiment and create new practises to a company that was worth several billion?

While they had been changing the way they operated and offering scholarships to people making ground breaking discoveries for a better and cleaner future, their competitors rapidly began falling behind. Which, unknowingly at first, put an even bigger target on his family’s back. They’d had escape routes and plans in place since he was born, they’d be stupid not too, but when they’d eventually heard about the bounty it had left them on constant high alert.

And that was where Ryan came in.

Jim admitted he’d thrown caution to the wind when he met the shy, quiet and polite man with hair as dark as the midnight sky and eyes that appeared to hold limitless secrets.

Far more than Jim could have predicted, that’s for sure.

They’d become close friends at the start, and had slowly and hesitantly revealed their feelings for one another over the following months. Ryan had gone through multiple security checks without knowing it, but as Jim pointed out if you have the right resources even the best investigators would struggle to pick up a cleverly fabricated identity when they weren’t looking for it.

A year and a half into their relationship, where Ryan had not only earned Jim’s trust but his parents and security team as well he disappeared, no word left to why or where he was going. Jim had, understandably been frantic with worry; the disappearance of his lover and the unexpected arrival of three abandoned and dying puppies meant that he ended up feeling completely overwhelmed.

Then a week later cars burst through the gates, and Ryan - whose real name turned out to be Malcolm - was there with his father who happened to be one of their biggest competitors, and a contingent of men who engaged in a shootout with the Hawkins security team. Amidst the rain of gunfire Jim and his parents, after grabbing the terrified puppies and their go bags, raced to the garage with the head of the security detail in tow, leaping into their cars and fleeing down the tunnel that had built long before Jim was born for that purpose.

It was the tunnel, that no one but Jim’s family and their head guards knew about, that saved their life. While the assailants fought their hardest to enter the property and assassinate the Hawkin’s Jim was half a kilometer away, grabbing his puppies from his parents and promising to stay safe before going to ground; constantly moving from place to place, town to town, trying to make his trail impossible to track. His parents had gone to a place even he didn't know, because even with the threat on their life they had to keep their company up and running to stop their competitors from destroying everything they’d worked so hard to build.

Splitting up, while not the best option, was the only one that could keep their enemies distracted and confused.

 

“That’s why I couldn’t go into town,” Jim sighed, closing his eyes as he felt his body sag in exhaustion from both his injuries and his story. “If I took the risk of going out in public there was the chance, no matter how slim, that he’d hear about it and come find me. Guess my isolation was pointless considering it happened anyway…”

Ross took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “No, Jim. It wasn’t pointless. You did your best to keep yourself safe in the only way you knew how.”

“I shouldn’t have stayed here,” Jim whispered, “I should have kept moving, kept running. But I’m so tired, Ross. I don’t want to run anymore.”

The look that Jim gave him made him appear so small and helpless and defeated that his heart broke for the blond. He lifted Jim’s hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it, running his thumb over the knuckles. “You won’t have to Jim, they’ve caught that asshole and have a strong case against him and his family. There’s no way they won’t be charged.”

“That’s right,” Carter said, a serious look on his face. “The attack carried out on you is enough to charge him with attempted murder, not to mention the other charges undoubtedly waiting to be slapped against his family for their attack. Don’t worry Mr Hawkins, I won’t let them get away with this.”

“But how can you be sure?” Jim replied, his tone close to pleading so strong was his helplessness. “My family may be powerful, but so are theirs, and they’ll no doubt use that to their advantage to get the charges swept under the rug.”

“I will personally make sure this is taken through the Federal Court, Jim, mark my words. I don’t like bullies, and I refuse to stand by and let them get away with this.”

Jim nodded, sagging further into his pillows when he sat up suddenly, his eyes widening in fear and remembrance. Ross immediately knew what he was going to ask, and cursed his bad luck that the blond couldn’t have slept for a bit longer before asking the one question he knew was coming.

“My dogs! Are they okay?!”

He took a deep breath and looked the blond in the eye. “Flint and Silver are alright, Demelza took them to my house -”

“And Sparrow? He’s okay right?”

Jim must’ve seen the sadness in his eyes, for he recoiled in shock.

“No,” he whispered, lips trembling as tears formed in his eyes, “No, please no-”

“I’m so, so sorry Jim, the vet said there was nothing she could do-”

A heart wrenching wail tore from Jim’s lips, cutting him off. Ignoring the others in the room he climbed onto the bed, manoeuvring around the wires before wrapping his arms around Jim and cradling him to his chest as he went completely and utterly to pieces.

He held the blond as he cried, the tears soaking through his shirt and his cries tearing at Ross’s heart until his exhaustion took over and Jim passed out in his arms. He carded his fingers through the blond hair before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, dimly aware of Demelza and Carter leaving the room to give them some privacy.

“Sleep, mo milis,” he whispered, settling into the pillows further. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

 

Jim was released from the hospital the following afternoon with strict instructions he was to stay with Ross and Demelza and take it easy for the next four weeks. Any arguments Ross thought the blond might have never came; Jim had hardly spoken a word since finding out about Sparrow’s death, and Ross could see the lingering pain in the blue eyes that threatened to overwhelm him any time he was left alone.

What concerned him the most was that Jim barely seemed to register his surroundings. After arriving home Ross had taken Jim to his bedroom before letting the dogs in from out the back, and he and Demelza watched with heavy hearts as the two puppies leaped onto the bed and curled around Jim with unhappy whines, pressing as close to their owner as they could.

It seemed Jim wasn’t the only one missing Sparrow’s presence.

After saying goodbye to Demelza, who had to go back to her cafe, Ross grabbed a woollen blanket off the couch and headed back to his bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shuffling across until he could spoon Jim before settling it over the four of them.

Eventually fatigue won out and they all drifted off to sleep; Ross’s arm slung protectively over Jim’s waist while Jim’s fingers were entwined with his, and the two puppies huddled along Jim’s front protectively.

 

* * *

 

Ross watched as Jim climbed out of the truck and headed for the boot. It had been three days since he’d been released from the hospital, three days since he found out he’d lost one of his puppies and three days since Ross had learned the meaning of heartbreak.

He’d done everything he could to make Jim as comfortable as possible, and after much coaxing and no small amount of blackmail he’d managed to get him to eat. Despite Jim’s displeasure he had eaten everything put in front of him, and Ross had watched with relief as the colour returned to his cheeks and the light slowly came back in his eyes.

They had been on the couch the night before, the pair flicking through photos on Jim’s phone of the puppies and when he got them when Jim announced he wanted to bury Sparrow the next day back at his house.

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Of course I’m sure!” Jim said, leaning back to look at him incredulously. “I’m not going to leave him in a freezer for the rest of my life, Ross. I want to bury him, bring peace to him, the boys and more importantly, myself.”_

_His eyes widened in surprise, both at the incredulous look and the anger in Jim’s words, and he hastened to explain himself. “No - Jim that’s not what I meant-”_

_“Well that’s what it sounded like-”_

_“It’s just,” he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, tugging on the end of a strand lightly as he tried to find the words. “Well, now that Ry- uh Malcolm’s been caught, and the charges are being laid against his family… well you and your parents can come out of hiding now. You can go home.”_

_Jim’s expression softened in understanding. “And you think I’m going to leave.”_

_“Well why wouldn’t you?” he replied with a helpless shrug. “Cornwall doesn’t have much going for it, and you’ll have an empire to inherit in the future. I just - is burying Sparrow at the Manor so wise when you won’t be there for much longer? You could bury him here-”_

_“Ross-”_

_“- Demelza and I would make sure he was well looked after-”_

_“Ross-”_

_“- and if you ever feel like coming back for a visit then you can see him whenever you like-”_

_“Ross!”_

_He jumped slightly when Jim placed a finger over his lips to silence him. “I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I have no intention in taking you up on it because I have no intention to leave.”_

_Hope fluttered to life in his chest, but Ross quickly clamped down on it, not wanting to end up disappointed when Jim changed his mind later on. “You don’t?”_

_“I’ve come to like it here. I mean sure, I will have to go home every now and again to see my parents, but once the house is up and running there’s no reason why I can’t work from there and fly back to the city whenever I’m needed. Besides,” a shy smile appeared on his face and Ross felt his heart speed up at the sight of it, “there’s one local in particular I’ve come to like rather well, and I’d hate to destroy a budding romance before it has a chance to bloom.”_

_A shy smile of his own appeared at the implication of Jim’s words. “Oh. Really?”_

_A slight widening of Jim’s mouth, a sparkle of white teeth before the blonde was leaning forwards to press a chaste kiss to his cheek._

_“Really.”_

The thunk of the boot closing tossed him out of the memory and back into the present. He watched in the rear view mirror as Jim walked over to the tree line with a spade resting against his shoulder, Flint and Silver following close behind. Taking a moment longer he exited the car and headed to the boot, pausing at the sight of the wooden box that he had built for Sparrow the night before and rested a hand on the sanded lid for a moment.

“I’m so sorry little guy,” he murmured, “I’m sorry I didn’t get there earlier to help you and your dad. But I’ll look out for him now, I promise.”

With a final stroke of the wood he reached past and carefully lifted the rose plant that he and Jim had purchased earlier that morning out of the boot. As he headed over to where Jim had already started digging - Ross had promised not to help unless his injuries became too much to bear - he had to admit that Jim’s composure when Ginny had wheeled Sparrow out of the cold room had been nothing short of astounding. The blond had placed a lingering kiss to his muzzle and another to his forehead before picking Sparrow up and placing him inside the box, all of which had been done without a trace of a tear, only a soft whisper that neither he nor Ginny could understand.

He placed the plant on the ground and went and sat against the tree, scratching Flint behind the ears when he came and joined him, the pair watching as Jim slowly cut deeper into the earth.

 

Half an hour later Ross finished digging to the correct depth that they needed, glancing up at Jim who was sitting near the edge with an absent expression. It had only been when Jim gasped in pain that he admitted defeat and asked Ross to finish digging the hole for him, something Ross was more than happy to do if it meant Jim didn’t injure himself further. It hadn’t taken him too long to complete, but it was long enough for the pain killers Jim had taken to kick in and take the edge off.

He stepped out of the hole and extended a hand to the blond, helping him to his feet before the pair set off for the car, taking a side of the box each and began their short trek towards the trees.

 

* * *

 

Ross watched as Jim patted the soil around the rose plant for a final time before standing, immediately taking a step forward and placing an arm around his shoulders. No words passed between them, taking comfort and strength in the silence, but both had their eyes glued to the grave.

Flint and Silver were either side of them, heads resting on the ground with the occasional whine escaping their lips, and it seemed to be the mournful cries of his dogs that eventually broke through Jim’s walls, his shoulders shaking slightly as he cried.

Ross pulled Jim against his chest, wrapping his arms around him as the blond sobbed into his shoulder. Everything that had happened was now final. There was no pretending Sparrow was somewhere else, no pretending that everything was okay because it wasn’t. Maybe one day it would be, and Ross had no doubt that that was the case, but right now Jim’s heart needed to heal, and if he was the one that would wait patiently with love and care to help him recover, then so be it.

“It’ll be okay Jim,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the blond’s temple. “It’ll be okay. No matter how long it takes, no matter how much you need to yell and scream and curse I will be here by your side for as long as you want and need me to be.”

Jim pulled away, watery blue eyes staring up at him with a mixture of grief and tentative hopefulness.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


End file.
